


Stars

by Starlight_88



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Stars, no reason just does, still calls his nanny nanny, warlock's there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 11:14:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20947406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starlight_88/pseuds/Starlight_88
Summary: Warlock has a question for Crowley. Okay, maybe more than one question.





	Stars

**Author's Note:**

> First Good Omens fic. Please tell me if you want more.  
Also the first fic I've written in over a year so comment please??

“Nanny, how were the stars made?” Warlock asked, curled up against Crowley’s side. Even though the boy was now a teenager, he still acted like he was a child when he was with his nanny. They were up on the rooftop of the bookshop, gazing up at the night sky. Aziraphale was finishing up in the book shop but promised he’d be up soon.

“The stars?” Crowley asked. “That’s an odd question for you to ask.”

Warlock shrugged, his eyes still looking upward. “I don’t know, figured you’d have the answer.”

“Well,” the demon sighed, shifting a little on the blanket they sat on, “lucky for you I actually made some of them.”

“What? Really?”

“Yep… there’s one of them,” Crowley pointed. Warlock followed his finger to the constellation.

“Lyra?”

“That’s the one,” he assured.

“Wow,” the boy gasped. Crowley bit back a smile. “How many did you make?”

“Just a handful. Not too many.”

“Are they all still there? I learned in class how starts to explode when they get too old but then they make new stars.”

Crowley looked closely at where his creations were. From what he could see, all of them still remained, shining on as bright as ever.

“What was it like making them?” Warlock asked.

“It was like painting,” Crowley told him, a fondness in his voice. “Only the paint was hot balls of gas and dust that had to be blended together for the perfect formation. Sometimes they’d even pop in your hands like little confetti poppers while you were positioning them. And I know the noises you hear now and from this far away sound like radio static, but up close and while they were still forming… well, it was extraordinary. Impossible to put into words,” he chuckled, smiling upward. “My favorite of them all is the Alpha Centri.”

“That’s yours?” Warlock was astonished.

“Indeed it is. It was the last one I made. Looks perfect from here, doesn’t it? All big and glowy.”

“What are the other ones?”

Crowley told him about the other stars he’d made and where they were. He explained to the boy how difficult and time consuming the process could be but how it was all worth it in the end.

“Why do we have stars, Nanny?”

Crowley thought for a moment? He never truly knew the reason for that one. When he was assigned that particular task, he hadn’t questioned it. That was the only task he hadn’t questioned.

“I think,” Crowley said after some time, “that maybe God didn’t want the night to seem so dark and scary. The stars give it a bit of light, ya know? And it adds to the beauty of the universe.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Warlock yawned.

“Someone’s getting tired,” his caretaker teased.

“Whatever,” Warlock said, pausing before asking his next question. “Where’s your favorite place to look at the stars? You’ve been all over the world, haven’t you?”

Crowley laughed under his breath. “Nearly, my little hellspawn.”

The silence stretched on, neither of them saying anything. Warlock waited for his nanny to answer the question but figured he’d chosen to leave it a mystery like many other questions. Just as he was about to think of something else, he spoke.

“Heaven,” the demon answered. “The best place to gaze upon the stars was heaven.”

“Why?”

“You had the best spot in the world to see anything and everything in the sky. The stars felt so close some nights that you just had to reach out and see if you could touch them.”

“Could you?”

“If you reached far enough, yes. They felt like how a candle feels when you try to put it out with your fingertips, but you couldn’t put out a star like that, of course.”

“Do you think I’ll be able to see it from up there one day?”

“If you behave well enough, I suppose you can.”

“Nanny, if I become an angel, can I still come to visit you and Azriphel?”

Crowley’s lips pressed into a thin line. Although Warlock knew the truth about his old nanny and the gardener, he didn’t know about the Anti-Christ or the end that didn’t come. He didn’t know that anyone who associated with him or his angel was basically traitors and seen as something that needed to be disposed of right away.

“That’s a topic for another day,” Crowley dismissed the subject, going to stand up. “I’m going to see what’s taking Azriphel so long.”

Warlock said nothing, just laid back onto the blanket. The demon made his way over to the door, already thinking he was going to have to pull the angel away from his beloved books. Instead, he found Aziraphel already making his way over to the two of them with a tray of mugs and a plate of biscuits.

“Who wants hot chocolate?” he asked, smiling.

Warlock sat right back up, graciously accepting the warm beverage and some of the treats.

The rest of the night was spent answering all the wonders Warlock had in his head. Some of the were beautiful questions, poetic even. Others, however, were strange and unexplainable. Both his godfathers did their best to answer them, some of them having easier answers than others.

Quite some time had passed before Warlock began dozing off on the rooftop. Crowley had woken him and told him to go inside, which he did without any complaints. After he had gone back downstairs and into the flat, Crowley and Azriaphel remain, taking another moment to look up at stars.

“Do you miss it?” Aziraphale asked, breaking the ongoing silence. Crowley looked over at him. “Heaven, I mean. Do you miss heaven?”

“Well, I certainly don’t miss the people up there,” Crowley mumbled. “But I suppose in a general sense I do.”

“And do you miss how the stars look from up there?”

So Aziraphel had been up here longer than he had thought. He’d heard what he and their godchild had been discussing.

“Of course. How could I not? It was the only good thing I ever accomplished.”

“You’ve done many good things, Crowley,” the angel said ever so softly. Crowley almost felt like he was right.

“Well, nevermind that. Let’s spend a few more minutes up here, yeah?”

“If that’s what you wish, my dear.”

Crowley settled back down onto the blanket and Azriaphel followed. It didn’t take long for their hands to find one another and for the angel’s head to fall onto the demon’s shoulder.

“I wish I could go visit and see what you mean,” Aziphel whispered. “The way you spoke about the stars… you have such a fondness for them.”

“I do but not the same fondness I have for you, angel.”

“Oh, you willy old serpent,” the angel grinned, his cheeks a shade of pink. Crowley’s were the same.


End file.
